Faith the Vampire Slayer: Slayer, Slew, Slain II
by Niels van Eekelen
Summary: Faith autobiographizes. Find out what makes the 'rogue slayer' tick. Second book of a trilogy. (COMPLETE)
1. Interlude II

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


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**PART TWO**

  
Have you come here for forgiveness?   
Have you come to raise the dead?   
--_One_, performed by U2 

--"He killed her, didn't he?"   
--"You have no word for what he did to her."   
--_Faith, Hope and Trick_   
  


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**INTERLUDE II**

  
  


Hey. 

I'm back. I wet my throat, and am all ready to start talking again. Boy, am I ever eager. I still don't have a clue as to why I am telling you all this. Just now I thought that maybe I should stop here, but for some masochistic reason, I can't. 

If you're still there, and you're gonna go on listening to this--brace yourself. 'Cause this is where things start getting nasty. I'm about to meet Kakistos--or, in this story of my life I am, at least. The fucking bastard is dust now, thank god. 

Even after facing Andrea and Mordred, I was totally unprepared for this vamp. You have to understand, I hadn't been a Slayer for long. It may _seem_ like I've been out killing vampires for most of my life, but in reality, I dusted my first vampire just shy of half a year before my arrival in Sunnydale. At this point, it was about three months. 

The longest I had ever had to chase any particular demon was five nights. I didn't have any Masters or Angeluses to keep going after time after time. 

Until then, that is. Until Kakistos.   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	2. Chapter Seven: Trick

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER SEVEN: TRICK**

  
  


"Faith!" Maria yelled at the top of her lungs. I could still barely hear her over the noise. 

"What?" I called back. 

"Turn down that lousy excuse for music!" Reluctantly, I reached out at the radio on the nightstand and cranked down the volume a few notches. Then I listened for a moment, noticed that it didn't make much difference, and lowered the volume a few notches more. 

It was two weeks after we'd burned the vampire called Mordred to a cinder. Much to my chagrin, my Watcher and I had returned to my hometown of Boston, and were planning to stay. Maria insisted that I should go see how my parents were doing. Personally, I was worried I'd run into them each time I went outside, no matter how large the city was. My parents seemed to be part of some other life, and I really preferred the one I had then. 

It was amazing how hard it had been to find a place to stay. In my memory, Boston was a place that wasn't exactly worth visiting, so I'd half expected every other place in town to be empty. Not so. The opposite was true. Added to that was the fact that Maria had 'fessed up that a _lot_ of the money we'd been spending in the last couple of months had come from private funds she had inherited from some relative, and not from the Watcher Council, as I'd thought. Now that money was running low, and instead of being nice for once and jumping in--it wasn't as if Maria and I hadn't both given up pretty much any chance at a regular job to do whatever _they_ wanted--the Council decided we should make do with the little funds they had provided us with all along. 

Maria and I had ended up in what weas practically the only affordable appartment we had been able to find in the entire city. It was small enough to have only one bedroom--though, fortunately, it fitted two beds. It was that room that Maria entered, and I hastily pulled in my legs under me when she dumped the groceries on my bed. 

"Only you could put rat's drool in the same bag as the pasta sauce. Gross," I muttered, sitting cross-legged. 

"They call it _Saliva of Rat_ at the magic shop," Maria corrected me absently. "And the bottle is sealed tight. Look," she added, gathering a few things in her arms, "with these, we'll be able to ban that succubus from earth, and it'll never seduce another man and take him to Hell." 

I shrugged. "I still don't see the point, M" I told her. 

"Funny," Maria commented dryly. "I'm going to do the banishing spell right now." I opened a bag of crisps and watched half-interestedly as my Watcher mixed the ingredients she'd bought with the slime I'd had the decided _un_pleasure of collecting the night before. I think I've mentioned it before, but I kinda suck with the incantation stuff. Give me a clean fight--or even better, a dirty fight-- over hocus-pocus mysticism any day. Maria took a deep breath, and started-- 

_"And that were the Red Hot Chili Peppers!"_ the radio interrupted loudly. _"Coming up is Korn, but first: the news!"_ I couldn't help but laugh at the miffed expression on Maria's face. 

"Could you," Maria growled, "_please_ turn that infernal thing _off?_" 

"Sure, sure," I said, still laughing. I reached out for the radio. 

_"In local news, the Boston PD still has not arrested any suspects in the case of the Mall Massacre."_

Maria's hand suddenly grabbed my arm, with my fingers inches from the on/off-switch. "Hold on," she said. "This stinks of demons." 

_"Late last night, after closing time, twenty-three stragglers and shop-owners in Providence Mall fell victim to a series of gruesome murders, the details of which the police has still not disclosed. Meanwhile, temperatures keep on rising across the country, and the Boston area will hold at 115 degrees over the weekend. This is Boston Voice FM."_

While the opening chords of 'Freak on a Leash' played, Maria and I looked at each other. Twenty-three dead. That was something major, and it was surprising we hadn't heard of it sooner. "You do your spell," I told her. "I'll go check for bite-marks." Maria nodded, and I hopped off the bed, put my shoes on and was out of the door. 

The mall was still closed off to the public officially, but like any city in the civilised world, Boston had too few cops for too many crimes. It was a piece of cake to sneak past the few guarding the place. 

There were about a dozen of those white-line figures on the ground in the food court, which was near the main entrance, but the bodies had been removed. From the shape of the lines I judged that either the artist was very bad, or something totally disgusting had happened to these people, either just before or after they died. I went upstairs to check out the clothes section. It was eery. I mean, heck, the sun hadn't even set yet, but I _knew_ this place. It was just a twenty-minutes' walk from where I'd lived my entire previous life--before being chosen yadda yadda. 

I didn't really like thinking about my old life in the first place, and to see my relatively normal and pathetic life mixed with my weird and adventurous life made it feel as if one of the two was just a dream. I did not want to wake up and found out which was the real one, 'cause if it was _my_ dream, chances were that it was a weird one. 

The corpses in the clothes section were still there, five of them. "Yech," I told them. They didn't reply. Not even those whose jaws were still attached to their heads. Two of the bodies were practically intact; there were only the bite-marks on their necks. They were definitively vampire kills, and this vamp was clean and methodical. Not a drop of blood had been spilled. The remaining three were a different story. They certainly had the bite-marks--enough of them to make them pretty hard to miss. But it was obvious that they had not been snacked on by the same vampire as the others. The one who had done this was the ritualistic kind of vampire, as well as much more of an animal. Their jaws had been ripped off, and when I took a closer look, I found that their tongues were missing. Maybe someone's idea of a delicacy. "Talk about sick and twisted," I muttered. What really bothered me, though, were the claw-marks. There were puncture wounds placed randomly over the bodies. It didn't seem to me that the victims had put up much of a struggle--it was more like mice that had been played with by a particularly nasty cat. 

I found a payphone and called to tell Maria everything. The phone had a nice clear view of the dead, so I had no trouble describing it all. I think Maria found hearing about it more gross than seeing it, 'cause she sounded a bit sick when she told me to stop. "I'm gonna hang out here for a while," I told my Watcher finally. "If this _is_ some non-intelligent beast, there's a good chance it'll come back tonight." 

"All right," she replied. "Just be careful." 

I chuckled. "Who? Me?" 

"I mean it, Faith. Not that I do not normally want you to keep yourself unharmed, of course, but I want you to look your best when Mr Duke arrives tomorrow." 

"Don't sweat it, M. I didn't forget." Actually, I had, but now I remembered. This guy Duke was some sort of big noise from the Watchers' Council over in England who was coming to visit to see if Maria was Watching me correctly, and didn't secretly keep one eye closed or anything. As a personal favour to Maria, I had promised to at least try not to insult him, no matter how stiff he was. 

I hung up the phone and made myself comfortable while I waited for the sun to go down. That lazy, shiny bastard certainly seemed to take its time to travel that last little bit to the horizon. I figured that I might as well make use of the fact that I was in a mall, and helped myself to some pretzels. I wondered if, since it was a separate stand in the clothes section, the pretzel place was still part of the food court, which was downstairs. 

While I was immersing myself in that filosophical question, the sun had finally slipped away. It was only minutes until my standing guard over the mall delivered results. But it wasn't the animalistic one that returned, as I'd thought. No, he was cold, cruel and sadistic, as I would learn, but not subject to animalistic rages. 

"Credit card, credit card," the man muttered. I wouldn't have been able to hear what he was saying were it not for my Slayer-enhanced senses. "Come on, I know I dropped you here somewhere. Come to poppa, li'l credit card." He was a black man in an extremely chic suit, for as far as I knew anything about that kinda thing. For a moment, I considered that he might be of the living, and just hadn't been able to wait for the police the let the mall open again before he could find his credit card, but when I concentrated, I could sense his vampishness. 

I stepped out into the open, onto the ledge of the balcony a floor above him. "You really should be more careful with your stuff," I said. "There's criminals everywhere, these days. _You_ should know that." 

the vamp looked up at my and smiled, happily surprised. "My, my, my, what a service. Dinner is served, and I didn't even have to ask." 

"Oh, yeah?" I asked. "Bite on _this_, you blood-suckin' bastard!" And I jumped down, stake forward, ready to slay. 

Our fight was brief. He was better than I expected--though certainly not so good that I wouldn't have taken him out eventually. 

"I've never eaten a person who fought back--or at least not effectively," the vamp commented wheb we took a short breather. 

"Well," I told him in between heavy breaths, "then you've never met a Slayer before." 

That raised Trick's eyebrows. "A Slayer? Here? Extraordinary! The boss will love hearing that." 

"_You_ have a boss?" I questioned doubtfully. 

"I'll take you to meet him. After I beat you into a bloody pulp, of course." 

"How 'bout I just torture his address out of you?" I countered. We'd been circling each other, and once again I charged the vampire. I dived into his blind spot, suckerpunched him, and quickly mowed his legs out from under him. I would've nailed the S.o.B. then--in fact, I had my stake raised in the air and was ready to plunge it down into the vampire's chest--if not for the Boston PD. The coppers standing guard around the mall, which I'd earlier sneaked around, must have heard the noise from the fight and taken the hint. They came in, flashlights shining and shouting at us to put our hands on our heads or to identify ourselves. 

I looked up reflexively, and was blinded for a moment when a flashlight shone straight into my eyes. Trick needed no more. He twisted somehow, and suddenly, instead of sitting on top of him, I was lying on the cold floor. I lashed out with the stake I was still holding, but Trick wasn't pressing his attack--he was running off. 

As the police closed on me, I considered my options. If I ran, the cops might try to shoot me--something that was happening to me way to often recently. Then again, it would cause major trouble if Maria had to try and bail me out from the police station again--especially with the Watcher bigwig that was coming. 

So I ran.   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	3. Chapter Eight: Council

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER EIGHT: COUNCIL**

  
  


"So then, with the police and all," I said, chewing on half a slice of my family-sized pizza, "I took off." I grinned around another bite. Man, was I ever hungry. A fight like that, and not even a kill to show for it. I needed _some_ release, and this guy from the Watchers' Council was _way_ too old to consider for the other option besides eating, even if he hadn't been the single stiffest guy I'd ever met. Stiff in all the wrong places, if you get my drift. "I thought they would try to catch me," I finished telling of that night's excitement, "but they were so clumsy, they couldn't even have caught a ... what was that slug-demon called again?" 

"A _Kare Zsjul_," Maria supplied unerringly. 

"Right, a Car Sale." It was wiggin' me out to see Maria like this. She was nervous as hell. And in our professions, I wouldn't be too quick to dismiss that as figuratively speaking. Mr Duke here had come all the way from the old world to see if 'Miss Hope' was being a good Watcher. (Privately, I believed he was supposed to take a hard look at me, too.) 

Anyway, Maria had practically begged me to be on my best behaviour--man, the _favours_ I'd made her promise!- -and I _was_ trying. Honestly. The guy just irritated me something bad. 

"So the vampire got away," Duke supplied. 

I shrugged. "Yeah. Well, you can't win'em all. He'll turn up again, and it'll be sooner rather than later." Another slice of pizza vanished down my throat. "Say, did I tell you about those goth-vamps in D.C.?" 

"Do tell, girl." 

"Well, he was into all that goth stuff," I started. "You know, the black clothes, the lace, and the make-up overdose. Those people believe that's what vamps actually look like. So, I'd chased this vampire into one of the goth clubs, and staked him right there. All these goths were staring at me, and I think, 'those losers'd probably wet themselves if they realised that that pile of dust on their floor had been a _real_ vamp.' So I make some insulting remark--I can't remember what exactly--and then I walk away. But then I hear something strange, and I look over my shoulder--turns out all those wannabees were all members of the undead legion." 

"You didn't sense that they were vampires before that?" the old Brit asked suddenly. 

"Huh?" I said, peeved at the interruption. "Oh, no. I'd sensed _something_, but I just figured that was the vamp I'd chased in." 

"I see. Did you at least deal with these vampires effectively?" 

I nodded enthusiastically. "They're all as dead as parrots," I told him. Duke just frowned incomprehendingly. "C'mon," I complained, "you're English. You've _gotta_ get Monty Python references. It's, like, a whole big cultural thing." 

"Of course," Duke said, and turned to Maria, who was looking a bit pained by now. He didn't even try to hide the fact that he was just brushing me off. 

"Eh, Faith," Maria told me, "Mr Duke and I need to discuss some matters privately. Could you ..." 

I smirked. "Go patrol?" I supplied. There. That at least should sound appropriately dutiful. I hoped the small shows of respect and enthusiasm for my 'sacred duty' would be enough to keep Maria out of trouble. I really sympathised with her, considering how I wasn't too fond of authority figures myself-- Maria herself being the one exception to prove the rule. As she told the tale, Maria was extremely your for a Watcher to be given a field assignment with a Slayer. It was a simple combination of luck and coincidence together with her talent for the job that had given her the opportunity. Like I said somewhere at the beginning of all this talk, the Watcher Council had only finally located me when I had already been Chosen--like Buffy, I think, but not like most other Slayers through the ages. The first Watcher who'd come from the old country to look for me had started looking years back, but he had run into trouble of the undead kind. He proved once again why Watcher are supposed to just _watch_. For some reason, it took the Council a while to realise what had happened and send young Mrs Maria Hope after me. Age is apparently a big issue with the Council, and more than one senior citizen held a grudge against Maria because she had been picked over them for the assignment. 

Meanwhile, I found that the door to our place was better soundproofed than I'd thought. Even with my Slayer-enhanced hearing, I couldn't here everything the two Watchers said. 

"I don't see why Faith should have to undergo that trial already," I heard Maria argue. I leaned closer, if that was possible. I'd just _known_ they were going to talk about me! "She too young yet." 

"The Council has its reasons." That was Duke-boy. "We have prophecies in our possession you don't even know the existence of." 

"That's just not good enough! The girl is _my_ responsibility, Mr Duke, and I need to know what's going on." 

The old guy sighed. "Very well, Mrs Hope. The Council has recently deciphered a prophecy which suggests that this Slayer will survive to her eighteenth birthday"--at this point I heard a relieved sigh which must have come from Maria, but for myself, I was a bit sceptical; 'suggests', right; I'd believe it when I got there--"but," Duke continued, "that at that time will be deeply involved in something--what we are not certain of--and will be unavailable at the appropriate time. Therefore, it was decided in a meeting of the Council that the Slayer will take the test at the earliest convient time." 

"Well, now is not exactly convenient, Mr Duke," Maria said, sounding adamant about it. "You heard what Faith said about this new vampire, and I've found some prophecies of my own that seem to point at this vampire. We cannot afford any distractions." 

"Perhaps," Duke interrupted. "At the moment, however, I'm suddenly more concerned about you, Mrs Hope. You seem terribly concerned about the girl." 

"I take my duty very seriously." 

"And it does you credit," Duke conceded. "Unfortunately, your concern seems to stretch to a personal level." 

There was a moment of silence that felt awkward even through the door. 

"Do you doubt my professionalism?" I'd never heard Maria's voice sound so cold and offended. "Faith is a pubescent girl who occasionally needs to discuss her emotional state and the like, and because of her special circumstances, I am the only one she has to turn to. I do not in any way let that fact interfere with my duty. The reason I am concerned for her life, Mr Duke, is that she, at some point in the future, may be the Earth's only chance of survival. You could benefit from a similar attitude." 

For a few seconds, I felt devastated. Basically, what Maria was saying was that for her our friendship was just a way to keep tabs on me. But only for a few seconds. Until I realised something. Maria could never have had me so completely fooled for so long. She was just too honest a person for that. Sounding offended, however, was one of the easiest lies. 

"I stand corrected," Duke said, and he really did sound chasticed. There was the sound of chairs moving. "I shall observe this vampire situation for a few days, and then we will reconsider whether or not to perform the test." 

"I will be seeing you, then, Mr Duke." 

It suddenly dawned on me then that Duke was leaving. Through the door. Which I was standing behind. "Shit!" I muttered, careful not to be heard through the door. Think hasty retreat, only faster.   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	4. Chapter Nine: Parental Guidance

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER NINE: PARENTAL GUIDANCE**

  
  


It was two nights later, I guess, that I was patrolling. That 'test' the Watchers had talked about was still bothering me. I couldn't exactly ask Maria what it was all about, because I wasn't even supposed to know about it. Anyway, there wasn't really anything I could do about it, so I tried not to worry about it too much. It just gave me one more reason to be annoyed with the Watchers from Afar, aka. the Council. 

Trick had kept quiet since our little skirmish in the mall, but two afternoons of dreadfully boring research only emphasized that something major was going to happen, probably no later than the end of that same week. Our working theory was that Trick served a master vampire and that they kept a pet demon, which was responsible for most of the mess in the mall. Lacking any more specific information, we had to wait for them to make the first move. It stunk. Majorly. 

Having all this on my mind, I was only more surprised when I saw what I saw that night. "Mom?" I was walking through one of those shop-filled boulevards in the friday night crowd--always a favourite time for the undead to walk among the living and go unnoticed. And I could have sworn that I saw my mother pass through the crowd just a few dozen feet away. My mother, who hadn't left our home since I was just a little girl. 

For a moment, I stopped dead in my tracks, and someone bumped into my back, cursing at me, but I didn't care. Then I started off again, quicker than before, working my way through the dense crowd. I pushed people aside left and right to get to the woman I'd seen a moment before. I called again, "Mom!" but there was no reason she should have responded to that, even had she heard it. As far as mom was concerned, I was out of her life. I surprised myself by being so enthusiastic about seeing her. Dad was the bad guy in my book--to put it simply but accurately, he's the one that screwed up my life beyond recognition--but I felt mom was just about as bad because she had let it all happen, and instead of being there for me had rather watched reruns of 'The Bold and the Beautiful'. And yet, I also remembered my mother from before she had become so apathetic. It hadn't lasted long, but for the first few years of my life, we had lived and laughed almost as a happy, _normal_ family should. I could not help hoping that if my mother was up and about again, the woman she used to be might be back. If it was her. As I hurried through the crowd, I started wondering if I had really seen my mother, or if it had just been wishful thinking. It was the whole love/hate shtick. I despise the previous generation of my family, but somewhere deep down--_very_ deep, let's be clear about that--I longed to have a normal life. Normal is relative too, of course, but you know what I mean. 

When I finally caught up with the woman, all my doubt vanished like a vamp in the sun. Even from just looking at her back, I knew that I was seeing my mother. Right at that moment, almost as if it was planned that way, I sensed a vampire nearby--the second already that night--but for once in my life, I couldn't care if it sucked someone dry. Well, at least I'd save the guilt-trip over letting it escape for a later date. Quickly, before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed her shoulder. All of a sudden, I felt very aware of the fact that I had to keep my Slayer strength in check, or I might hurt her "Mom?" I asked, knowing the answer. 

She turned around, and, quite obviously, was stunned. I know that she recognised me immediately--as she turned around, she looked irritated, like anyone who was walking down the street when someone else grabbed their shoulder would be, but the instant she saw me, she went wide-eyed and slack-jawed. For the briefest of moments, she seemed afraid--perhaps she finally felt guilt over what she had done. Truth be told, I didn't respond much better. First I tried to tell her how glad I was to see her here; then I tried to retreat to a more comfortable attitude of anger, but in neither case I got a word out past my lips. We stood there, nailed to the ground, just looking at each other, until finally someone bumped into us in the crowded street. I was suddenly nervous, unsure if I should have run after her. She had abandoned me, and then I had abandoned her, too. A happy reunion was suddenly seeming less and less likely. 

"Faith?" my mother spoke finally, timidly. And then she smiled. It was a happy smile. It was one of the best things I had ever seen. 

The rest of that day blurred together. I remember what I did--we did--of course, but it's the feeling the I remember most clearly. Half an hour later we were sitting at a table outside a café, and we didn't leave until near morning, when they were closing the place up. I was starved as always, and I came at least one mouth short, because I was trying to tell my mother everything that had happened to me in the past few months--or a severely edited version of all that, at least; I wasn't quite ready to lose my mother again because she thought I belonged in an institution--and trying to cram as much food as possible into my mouth at the same time. Mom, on the other hand, was barely eating anything--which was good, because that meant _she_ could talk. 

"I see you haven't lost your appetite," mom commented amusedly. 

"Mm-hm," I responded past half a sandwich. 

Mom sighed. "I suppose you must be curious how come I am out here, and not sitting in front of the TV." She smiled bitterly. "I know I've never been a very good mother. I should have protected you from your father, stepped between you two when things got out of hand. But I couldn't. Jackson is a terrible man, Faith, I know that, but I still love him. You have no idea how that was for me. You may have suffered under what he did to you, but so did I." Mom sighed, and her eyes stared vacantly into space, reminiscing about a time that was much better than what I remembered "He used to be so much different, you know," she continued after a moment. "When I first fell in love with him, your father was a good man, and I don't think I have ever seen anyone be as happy as he was the day you were born. Then ... times just got bad. Your father lost his job, his friends abandoned him, and we barely had enough money to get by. It changed everything for Jackson. He blamed it on me. On you. On anyone who came near him. Soon enough, Faith, we were the only ones who would. I'm so sorry for the things your father did to take out his anger and frustration on us. But even with all that, I still loved him--love him." 

Mom wasn't saying much that I hadn't realised when I still lived back home, but I had only ever realised it as an angry girl. Well, I was still pretty angry, and little more than a girl, but for the first time--perhaps because now I had the chance to take a step back and look at the whole fucking situation more objectively--I understood my mother. It was a bit scary, actually. But in a good way. 

It felt good to be with my mother again, but it also was confusing. Sitting there, I just didn't feel like the Slayer. For me, my life--or lives--was divided in two very separate halves very cleanly. There was my old life with my parents, the one I hated and had done everything I could to leave behind me. And then there was my life as the Slayer, the one where I faced death every night, but felt comfortable doing so, because I was confident in my abilities. I didn't think it was possible to have both--to the degree that some part of me was afraid I would somehow be un-Chosen now, and the greatest adventure of my life was about to come to an end. 

"When you were taken away from us," mom went on, shaking her head at the memory, "everything just seemed different. The two of us hadn't actually talked or hung out together or anything at all for long before you left, but I suddenly felt lonely, as if I had lost my only ally with whom I could stand against your father. Even Jackson was different after you left. He still needed to take out his frustrations, and you weren't there anymore to take the heat, so he looked for other people." She sighed again, sadly. "Before you left, you had always been there when Jackson needed an outlet, and you would always give him some excuse--I'm not trying to blame you for anything!" mom hastened to assure me. I smiled and nodded my head to indicate that I understood. I _was_ a troublemaker. Always had been, and certain as hell that I'd always stay one. "Without you around, Jackson started causing trouble in the bars he frequents. He drank far too much. He picked fights. It wasn't long before he was arrested." 

"Wait, time out, mom," I interrupted. It felt strange to call her that. More than once--a lot more, if you have to know-- since moving out, I had thought about the fact that Maria was much more of a mother to me than this woman that was sitting across from me now had ever been, genetics or no. "Not that I would have wanted him to," I wondered, "but why didn't dad just pick you? You were there right in front of him." I licked the last crumbs off my plate. Mom offered me her ham sandwich, on which she'd only nibbled, and I took it gratefully. I was so excited, and worried at the same time, that I could've eaten a horse. 

Mom sighed, and she looked really sad, as if she'd even have welcomed that kind of attention from my father. "Just look at me," she said. "I've become old and fat." She wasn't honestly that old, but fat was harder to deny--even if it seemed to me that she'd lost some weight since I'd last seen her. "Jackson hasn't _looked_ at me since I became like this. He barely seems to want to admit that I exist. That's why he came after you in the first place, when you were still around. Or I think so, at least. It's hard to know what goes on in Jackson's head sometimes." 

I was tempted to say 'Not much,' but I restrained myself. "So, you said he was arrested?" I asked, curious. "Is there any prison in this story?" I think I actually sounded hopeful when I spoke those words. 

"No," mom replied not noticing or ignoring my venom, "they just kept him overnight at the police station a few times. Once, he tried to rape a girl--he came close to prison then--but the girl's boyfriend punched him out, and the two left. Turns out the boy had a warrant out for his arrest--in three states, I've heard it said. So they could hardly stay around to press charges. 

"But, enough of this. Look at me, I was supposed to tell you how come I'm getting outside the trailer and in the streets again, and here I am, boring you with things you don't want to know." I did, actually--want to know, that is--but I didn't dare interrupt again. "I'm not really certain what changed me, but I did. I began feeling bored, silly as it sounds, and restless. I missed you. A few weeks after you were taken away, Faith, I started going out again. Socialising, the word is, I guess. And I decided that I liked it." 

We went on talking for hours, until the café closed. A few times I was on the brink of telling her about being a Slayer, but each time I changed the subject just in time. We stood outside then, for a while, not sure what to do. Neither of us was ready to take the other home with us. Heh. That must sound hilarious coming from a girl who'll drag a guy she's known for five minutes to her room with her. But this was different in each and every aspect. Ultimately, we decided to meet each other at the same place the following night. I suggested a late time for our meeting, so that I could at least finish a patrol first. Had to keep Maria happy. And Duke, as long as he was there. Maybe. 

I sauntered back in the direction of the apartment in no particular rush. I had a lot to think about. The thing that I had to think about most was my father. If I was going to see mom again, eventually I would end up renewing my acquaintance with him, too. On the one side, I was ready to kick his ass. On the other side, I was kinda terrified. Maria had lectured me often enough that under no circumstance was I to start using my Slayer strength for things like revenge. Those lectures were usually right after I beat up some guy who'd pissed me off, but it was still enough to give me pause. Ah, who am I kidding? That wasn't really why I was afraid my father. Might have become stronger, and a better fighter, but I couldn't let go of the knowledge that I had resisted everytime he ever tried to use me in one way or another in the past, and it had never been enough. I had a lot to think about, but I didn't get anywhere before I reached the apartment. 

In fact, I was so caught up in my thoughts that I didn't realise the lights were still on in the small appartment Maria and I shared. Because I always came in at all hours, I usually clambered up the fire escape and entered through the window. I intended to just sneak in quietly and go to sleep right away, so I wouldn't wake Maria. It was only when I held back the curtains to get through the window, and the very _bright_ light shone right into my used-to-the-dark-of-night eyes, that I realised I wouldn't wake Maria, because she was still very much awake. "Oh, fuck," I cursed the light, raising my free hand to shield my eyes. 

"And hello to you, too, Faith dear," I heard Maria say. 

I blinked my eyes a few times, and saw my Watcher sitting on the couch, still fully dressed despite the late hour. She looked as if she wasn't certain whether to be angry or relieved. "Is something up?" I asked her. I was too tired and preoccupied to figure out why she wasn't in bed. 

"Is something wrong? _Is something wrong?_" Maria replied angrily. "I've been worrying myself to death, and you ask if something is wrong? Do you have any idea what time it is?" I studied my feet, perhaps for the first time honestly embarrassed about making Maria worry. "Were you fighting demons?" she continued. She frowned. "Or were you with a boy again? I thought we'd agreed that you would at least give me a ring when you finish your patrol." 

I kept silent, not sure what to say. I didn't know if I really wanted Maria to know about mom, not yet. Usually, I could talk to my Watcher about anything, but this was different. It was too personal, and there was also the almost double role Maria and my mother played in my life. 

Maria sighed and rubbed the bridge of her nose. She was making that weird clucking noise with her tongue. "I'm sorry, Faith. I know you don't need me to mother you. I was merely ... concerned, is all." 

"'s OK," I assured her, distinctly uncomfortable with Maria's phrasing. I looked up from my feet at her. "I'm sorry, too, I guess." 

Maria smiled as she looked at me again. "You guess," she repeated, amused. "Well, _I_ guess we'd both better get some sleep, while there is still any night left. Don't think I'll let you get out of training tomorrow morning." 

I agreed, but my mind was still too occupied for me to expect any real rest.   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	5. Chapter Ten: Funeral Pyre

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER TEN: FUNERAL PYRE**

  
  


That following morning--way to early, for my taste--I remember thinking that my expectation had been pretty damn accurate. Fortunately, there is no job or holy duty that prepares you better to go work on little sleep than slaying does. So sure, I was abit slower, a bit less inventive in how I beat on padding-strapped Maria, but there were plenty of days when I didn't feel like exerting myself over essentially nothing, so there wasn't even anything remarkable for Maria to notice had she been looking for it. 

Maria, though, was as distracted as I was. Every few minutes, she would glance at the phone. It wasn't a smart thing to do in the middle of a training session. 

I started thinking. Maybe, if Maria had things to do today, I could get away and scout out my old neighbourhood. It's a little silly, I guess. There was no way that I was going to go home--to my old house, that is- -but I just wanted to see if everything I remembered was still there. I mean, my mother had changed enough. Who knew what had happened to the rest of the neighbourhood. I even had an urge to go to the pond just ouside the city, where I'd sometimes gone to swim with other children before my family life had been screwed up too badly, and jump off the high rock. Once, after things had gone bad, I'd returned to that pond. Having had more experience with falling, the high rock had suddenly looked a lot riskier than it had when I was smaller. I'd jumped off it anyway, not really caring if I broke my neck. After I'd landed in the water, perfectly all right, the high just lost its excitement, and I hadn't returned to the pond since. 

Unfortunately, Maria had other plans. 

In the middle of a sparring session, my absent-minded Watcher simply stopped, dropping her arms. I had a hell of a a time breaking of the swing that would practically have taken Maria's head off. Losing my balance, I had to grab the table so that I wouldn't fall. After I'd recovered, I glared at Maria, who didn't seem to have noticed anything. If _I_ had done something like this, _she_would have taken _my_ head off, with words. 

"He should have called by now," she told herself, irritatedly. Then she turned to me. "Faith dear, we're going out." Noting Maria's sudden bad mood, I decided not to demand an explanation. I changed clothes quickly, not bothering to really wash. 

Maria did the same, and in no time we were on the road in her car. Maria didn't lose her patience very often, but when she did, she tended to move very fast. I never had any problems with that. In case you hadn't noticed, I'm kinda bordering on hyperactive myself. 

"Where exactly are we going?" I dared ask. Maria was tapping the fingers of her right hand on the dashboard, and it was grating my nerves, though obviously no more than the red light we were waiting for or the heavy traffic in the city centre were grating on Maria's nerves. 

"Do you recall Mr Duke?" she asked me. 

"Not really," I claimed. "I was fast asleep as soon as he first opened his mouth." 

Maria looked at me over her shoulder, and gave me a little smile. 

"It's green," I said, because, of course, the moment Maria had looked away, the traffic light had turned green. 

My Watcher put the pedal to the metal and continued her explanation while driving. "I'm sure you still recall he was from the Watchers' Council, Faith. He was supposed to call me concerning a decision we had to make." I gave M extra points for vagueness. If I hadn't been listening in on the conversation between Maria and Dukie earlier, I would have been thoroughly confused. Maria's irritation shone through when she continued. "He was _supposed_ to have called me last night, or this morning at the very latest. Well, it's past noon, and frankly, I've waited long enough." 

I shrugged. "Can't you just call him?" 

"Mr Duke didn't see it fit to give me the phone number of the place he is staying at." 

"So the Council has a 'Don't call us, we'll call you'-policy." 

"Not usually, Maria replied, "but in this case, yes." She muttered something in a chagrined voice which I don't think I was supposed to have heard in the back, but Maria forgot about my Slayer-enhanced senses. " Why didn't they just go bother the Summers girl if they wanted someone toy with?-- she's older anyway. Stupid aristocrat half-wits." 

We drove the rest of the way in silence,until we got to where we were going. I'd noticed already, with only a passing interest, that Maria was heading to one of the richer suburbs, but I hadn't expected the mansion we stopped in front off. It was one big shit-hole. Which I only got a chance to notice after we'd passed through a whole lot of garden. "What _is_ this place?" I wondered, getting out of the car. 

"This mansion has been in the possession of one of the most senior Watcher families for generations," Maria informed me. 

I stood there for a moment, before rushing up the steps after my Watcher. "The Council has a place like _this_, and they leave their Chosen One and her Watcher to find their own place to stay?" 

But Maria's attention was already focussed elsewhere. She gave the front door a push with two fingers, and it swung open easily. Not good. A watcher ought to know a lot better than that. Inside, the house was dark, all curtains still closed though it was one in the afternoon. I cursed silently, pulling a stake out from inside my jacket. I didn't trust it. Something was definitively smelling fishy here. 

"Stay behind me, M," I ordered my Watcher, and she did as I said. I silently stalked through the hallway. Maria, now holding a cross and a stake of her own, was right behind me. This could still be nothing, I told myself. Maybe Duke was sleeping late because he was still suffering from jetlag, him being an Englishman and all. Or maybe he had company. 

But I didn't believe any of it. Funny, actually, considering how good I can be at lying to myself. 

I stopped in mid- stride--sudden enough so that Maria bumped into me--and sniffed the air. My eyes widened as I recognised what I was smelling. Because something _was_ smelling. It wasn't fishy, as I'd optimistically thought. It was blood--human blood. 

"Fuck!" I rushed off towards the end of the hallway. 

"Faith! What is it?" Maria called after me, worried. She sprinted to catch up with me, which she did as I kicked the wooden door to the living room off its hinges, so that we got our first look at what was behind it at the same time. 

"Oh, my god," Maria gasped. I half-looked over my shoulder and saw that she had paled considerably. She raised the hand holding her stake to cover her mouth. 

When I had kicked open the door, the stench of raw meat drifted freely into our breathing space, and I, too, raised my hand to hold my nose closed. Still, I crouched down by the corpses to investigate. 

"This is Trick's work," I told Maria. "Or, his demon's." The scene was a lot like what I'd seen before, at the mall--only worse. There were no neatly drained bodies here to provide the horrific contrast they had at the mall, but the bodies that _were_ here were so badly mutilated that I could barely tell where one ended and another began. It didn't take much investiging before I was certain of the claim I'd made to Maria; these bodies featured identical claw marks as those in the clothing section of the mall had, and like with those, their jaws had been removed and their tongues were gone. A shiver ran down my back, and I looked at Maria. Somehow, with her there, it was a lot harder to joke and pretend that the blood didn't bother me and the stench wasn't nearly enough to make me scramble to a corner and throw up. I noted one other thing--these bodies were fresher than the others I'd seen. They couldn't have been killed earlier than the night before. "I think ... Yeah, I think this one used to be Duke. Dunno who the others were." There were at least six corpses that I could make out without doing more than prodding with my stake here and there. 

"Undoubtedly the servants," said Maria. She had recovered from her shock, and though she was still at _least_ as freaked as I was, she put her Watcher training to good use and put on a detached air. "They must not have known vampires are real, and invited the wrong person in." 

They have _servants_? I wondered. I shook my head. Any other day, I would have made some snide remark about that, but not today. Not out of any respect for the dead--when the dead tended to get back up and try to kill you, you were quickly relieved of any such silly notion--but out of simple disgust with the whole situation. With the bulk of humanity being looked upon by vamps as snacks, and Slayers fighting the creatures of the night to the death, one way or another, Watchers had alsays seemed to me to be the one group that was safe from vampires. I should have been used to the fact that each time I put some tiny bit of faith in the world, my feet were cut down from under me, but I wasn't. 

I looked at Maria for the guidance she was supposed to be able to give me. "What do we do now?" I wanted to know. 

Suddenly, a double door, behind the mess on the floor, was slammed open, revealing a dark, but large-looking room beyond it. Idly, I wondered just how large this mansion was. Then I turned my mind to the matter at hand: the two vamps who had opened the doors. But they weren't attacking yet. 

"I suppose it would be just a tad corny," a voice came from the darkness, "to say that now you die, wouldn't it?" 

If I had jumped into a fighting stance when the double door had opened, I was now a spring wound up tight. "Trick," I recognised the voice of the speaker. 

The black-skinned vamp walked into the light. "And oh so nice to see you again, too, Slayer, and your lovely Watcher. I see you've figured out who I am--well, having a reputation is good for any sort of business." 

"Why did you come here, Trick?" Maria interjected authoritatively. "And for that matter, how did you know where to come?" 

Trick shrugged "It's _Mr_ Trick, if you don't mind," he said. "And what can I say? The master just had a sudden craving for blue blood, and it is _so_ hard to come by it fresh here in the States." 

"I'm going to kill you, Trick," I said threateningly. "I know it. You probably know, too. It wasn't smart to come looking for me." In fact, I couldn't have been happier about it. Not only could I deal with him now, before he could hurt anyone else, but a good bit of violence would also help me get all the unwanted emotions I was feeling out of my system. 

Trick made a gesture of powerlessness. "That's what I told the master. 'Don't let her see us coming, just kill her and be done with it.' But the master wanted a hunt. Thus, the master is getting a hunt. And that, to answer Ms Bandera's question, is why we are all here." I was startled by the vampire's carefully placed warning that he knew who Maria was, but didn't let it show. "Slayer, the master wants you to know that we are after you. We are taking out everyone you care about." 

I made myself chuckle. "Then you're off to a bad start. I only met Mr Duke once, and I can't say I cared for him much. Plus, of course, that I'm going to kill you right here and right now." 

Trick just smiled knowingly and stepped back into the darkness. 

I rushed forward to get him. The two vampires at the doors moved to block my path, joined by four others coming forward out of the darkness. Their presence wasn't entirely surprising, 'cause I'd already sensed something back there when Trick was talking. The undead formed a half-circle blocking the door, and I stormed straight into it. I wanted to break through fast and go after Trick while he was still close, but I knew that was what the vampires were expecting. Even if I dusted the one in the back of the circle and managed to rush on, I would be leaving Maria alone with five bloodsuckers. I cursed and managed to do what my head knew was right. 

At the last moment, I threw myself to the left and crashed into the front-most vampire, stake first. He hadn't expected me to hit him--in fact, he was already moving forward to close the circle, to catch me in the middle. We went down and hit the floor hard. The impact drove my stake al the way through the vampire's heart. He gurgled a moment, then exploded in a cloud of dust. His body suddenly gone from beneath me, I fell the rest of the way to the floor. My stake got stuck between me and the floor, and its blunt end poked painfully into my right breast, but I twisted and rolled before it could do any damage. The next vampire landed down on the floor next to me as my roll knocked his feet out from under him. 

Quickly, I flipped myself back to my feet. The rest of the baddies were moving in on me. I dodged the fist one of them swung at me, and landed a return blow in his stomach. He doubled over, and I was ready to ram my stake through his back, but unfortunately, he must have been well-loved among his pals, because another vampire rather broke his hand on my skull than see his drinking bud dusted. I tumbled back to the floor, passing the vamp I'd tackled halfway, as he was just getting up. 

My head was ringing, but I grinned like a maniac. This was what I lived for! All my worries, everything that complicated my life faded away, until there were only the vampires, and the desire--the _need_ for mindless violence. The vampires and I fought in a ballet of punches, kicks and leaps. I'd lost my stake when I'd been knocked to the ground, but there was another one in my jacket. I was lying on my back on a table with my legs in a stranglehold around one of the vamps' neck, twisting until I heard a satisfying snap, when my pleasantly mindless violence was suddenly interrupted. 

"Faith!" Maria called. "Focus!" Thus far, my Watcher had been ignored by the undead, but as I turned to her, I saw that two of the remaining vamps were advancing on her. For a human with no superpowers, Maria was a good fighter--you have to be, to be a Watcher--but she was no match for two strong vampires. With a quick kick, I shoved aside the lone vamp that was still attacking me--I'd staked a second vampire during the fight--and leaped after the vampires attacking Maria. I caught the legs of one, and pulled him down to the floor, confident that Maria would be able to at least hold the other off for a while. The vampire kicked me in the face, and I almost yelped in pain as blood started to rush from my nose. Of course, I managed to keep quiet. I wasn't about to let it show that he'd hurt me. 

All of a sudden, I had an idea. I'd insinctively grabbed the leg that had kicked me, and I kept my hold on it as I climbed to my feet. The vampire kicked with his other leg, trying to make me let go, but I just grabbed that one, too, with my other hand. I started turning around, faster and faster, until the vampire swinging through the air, my hands all that held him where he was. He flailed his arms around wildly, but there was nothing to grab onto. Then I let him go. The vampire shot straight at the window. The curtains were, as I said, closed, and they looked heavy, but they barely slowly the vampire down as he flew though the window out into the sunshine. I grinned broadly. His scream was almost human, and yet nothing like it. There was a brief burst of fire, and then the vampire was gone. 

Where the vamp had knocked open the curtains, sunlight flooded the room. We were all too far into the room to be hit by it directly, but the remaining members of the undead legion couldn't prevent there instinctive reaction to shrink back. We took maximum advantage of their distraction; Maria quickly staked her vampire, while I did the same to the last remaining one. No, not the last, I noticed. The one whose neck I'd broken was still gurgling. I went down on one knee next to his body and watched with satisfaction as I let him explode into dust. Nothing, _nothing_ was as releasing as a kill after a good fight. 

I raised my head and glared into the darkness of the next room. "I'm going after Trick," I stated, getting up. 

But Maria held me in place with a firm hand on my shoulder. "No," she said, way calmer than she should have been after such exercise as we'd just had. "He'll be long gone by now." 

"In the daylight?" 

"This house doubtlessly has some underground escape route Trick could have taken. He seemed to prepared to let us capture him. Besides," she changed the subject smoothly, "you're hurt." 

I quickly wiped away the blood that had gathered under my nose, and then sniffed loudly, sucking up the fresh blood. "I'm fine," I said. "Five by five." 

Maria sighed, probably realising that she wasn't going to get me to slow down. "I suppose we should inform the police." 

"Definitively not," I objected bluntly. "It's not like they'll be any fucking help or anything." 

"At least then we'll be able to give these poor people a decent funeral," my Watcher argued, indicating the remains of Duke and the others. 

I shook my head. "The police'd ask to many questions. We don't have time for them if we want to hunt Trick down." Besides, it wasn't unlikely that someone in the Boston PD still remembered a little troublemaker called Faith Mandorf. I wasn't sure precisely how much Maria knew about all the trouble I'd got into over the years--though, knowing Watchers as I do now, I suspect she knew everything all along. I didn't want her to know any more than she did already, and I definitely wasn't up to dealing with the inevitable trouble that would come up if I was connected to a murder scene. 

Maria finally gave in. "Don't worry," I told her, "we'll take that bastard down." In a whisper, I added, "and then I'm going to make him hurt like no vamp has hurt before."   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	6. Chapter Eleven: Prodigal Parents

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER ELEVEN: PRODIGAL PARENTS**

  
  


I had an uncomfortable feeling of having lied to Maria. Perhaps because I had. I had won our argument over the cops by arguing that we needed all our time to find Trick and his master, and here I was, doing nothing. 

But I was doing nothing with my mother, and that made it worth it to me. The day after Duke's murder I met with my mother for the third time. Like the night before, we had agreed to meet each other late in the evening. I had a sneaking suspicion that mom was trying to keep my father from finding out that she was seeing me. It would explain why she kept wanting to meet so late. Not that I was complaining, or anything. If it was all the same, I'd rather not have to see dad anyway, and schedule-wise, it was perfect. 

In synch with my usual luck, there was again a vampire nearby when I was with my mother. I almost excused myself to go looking for the thing of the night, because I could sense it was awfully close, but something stopped me. Anyway, I'd saved the life of a girl my age from two vampires--which I'd both dusted--on an early patrol, so I figured I'd boosted up my credit with the world enough to take an early break. 

After our first two hours-long sessions, mom and I discovered, almost to our shock, that we'd run out of things we could tell each other. Fortunately, that didn't turn out to be such a bad thing as I was afraid of at first. The two of us just wandered through the city, enjoying the company. Somewhere, among all the nightmares and bad memories, I'd forgotten that Boston is actually a beautiful city. Having grown up there, I guess I'd stopped noticing the sights, until I started walking around with no particular goal in mind. 

That night, time flew by quickly, and again, I had a marvellous time, but I also got a little uncomfortable. By now, everything that had happened to me during the past week or so had had a chance to sink in. Old hurts wormed their way back into my memory. I wanted just to be with my mother and not care, but after a while, I couldn't push out of my mind the memory of my mother sitting motionless on the couch, flicking in and out of my line of sight while my father held me down on the ground and he ... he did what he did. As I'm sure you can imagine, that memory is vivid--It doesn't matter how often it had happened to me. Some things just don't ever become routine. Even if you try to let it be. 

After a while, my discomfort started rubbing off on mom, too. I didn't want to get her upset, so I firmly pushed the memories away, but couldn't stop the sick feeling in my stomach when I looked at her. 

Looking for something to distract us both, I noticed that it was getting early, rather than late. If I wanted to get _any_ sleep that night, I'd better get to the apartment. Which also brought me to the second reason why I was feeling uncomfortable. I still hadn't told Maria why I was coming home so late all the time. She knew something was up, but she respected my privacy, which made me only feel worse about not telling her. Still, there was no reason why I _had_ to tell her anything--or so I told myself. 

Yeah, I had plenty of excuses ready to rationalise an instinct I didn't want to acknowledge. 

"Well," I said hesitantly. It was silent for a moment as we looked at each other. "I guess I'd better get to bed. I have things to do tomorrow." 

"I guess so," mom replied. "Will I ..." she started, as hesitant as I, "will I see you again tomorrow?" 

I nodded. "Of course. Same Bat-time, same Bat-place?" 

"Great." 

On impulse, I stepped forward and gave my mother a short hug. Then I trotted off, only turning back for a moment to wave, which she returned. 

That day was again spent with Maria, on our futile search for Mr Trick. We couldn't make any sense of it. Trick had very boldly threatened to come after us, but since our meeting at the Council's mansion, there hadn't been a trace of him--and believe me when I say that we looked into every single incident that where was the slightest chance Trick was involved in. The entire vampire population of Boston seemed to have decided to take it easy for a couple of nights. Maria had spoken with the Council in England, and they told her that now that a Watcher had been killed, it was time to pull out all the stops. (Naturally they managed to stay very British, very Watchery in getting upset. They even paused to calmly invite Maria to a retreat in the Cotswolds--wherever that is--a month or so later. Maria was quite excited about that invitation for a minute, until she remembered what the actual topic was again.) 

All in all, with the little sleep I'd been getting and the frustrating ineffectiveness of our daytime work, I wasn't at my best when I went out to meet with my mom again the next evening. For once, the patrol I had planned for before the meeting was as quiet as the night is supposed to be, and for once, I was actually grateful for it. I sat down on the bench where we'd met before. It was in the shade of a lone tree on the wide pavement of a shopping avenue, and, on a weekday night, quiet. 

I must have been more tired than I'd thought, because not long after I sat down, the quiet got to me, and I decided to close my eyes, just for a moment. I dozed off. 

My sleep was restless, and it was only half an hour before a nightmare started me awake. I jumped to my feet, half-expecting a vampire to be sneaking up on me, even though I didn't sense anything undead anywhere. The street was deserted. There were no vampires--and more disturbingly, no mom. I checked my watch and saw that I had been asleep for about half an hour. 

Had my mother still not turned up? For a moment I thought she might not have wanted to wake me, but I knew that if that were so, she would never have left again. Not knowing about vampires is one thing, leaving your daughter asleep outdoors in a major city is quite something else. Slowly, as I shook off my sleep more completely, I grew more worried. The only reason I could think of why mom hadn't come yet was that something bad had happened. Hesitantly I started towards the neighbourhood that I had so strenuously avoided since returning to Boston. To the trailer that had used to be the closest thing I had had to home. The thought crossed my mind that vampires might have taken my mother--and with my rotten luck, that actually seemed pretty damn likely--but I suspected that it was something else this time. My father was still there, no matter how much I avoided thinking about him. I was suddenly sure that if there was trouble, he would be at the bottom of it, and the bottom would be very deep. The fact that my father hadn't touched my mom--had barely even looked at her--since a few years after impregnating her with me didn't even enter my consideration. 

Before I knew it, I was running. Underway, I looked out for signs of a struggle, but I didn't expect to find any, and I didn't. 

As I got closer to the trailer and started to recognise places from my childhood, I slowed to a walk again. I could take my father on easily with my Slayer power, I had no doubt of that, and if he _had_hurt my mom, I didn't think Maria would hold it against me if I beat the living crap out of him if she was in her strictest British mood. I slowed again. Very few people, especially among the living, could still hurt me. That was a fact, as far as I was concerned. But another fact was that my father _had_ hurt me, as often and as much as he liked. Whether it was sane or not, I just couldn't get they idea out of my head that if I went into the trailer, he migh plummet me as easily as he did when I was ten years old. I don't know if you've noticed, but when I can't settle something with brute force or simply shrug it off, I tend to turn and run. And don't think that was easy to admit just now. 

... 

Anyway, going into that trailer was one of the hardest things I've ever done in my life. The moment I did, I actually felt a stab of pride. You know all the things they say about hindsight? They all apply to this one, with a vengeance. 

Deciding that if I was gonna go in, I was gonna go in my way, I kicked open the door. The main room was empty. It wasn't noticably different from the last time I had been in there. A shiver ran down my back. "Anybody home?" I asked, my resolve crumbling again. Maybe I should just go away. Mom and I could meet again tomorrow. 

And a scream tore through the silence. Funny. I don't remember the scream at all. It could have been a scream of pain, or of terror, or of shock, or of anything. I don't think I ever really heard it. All I know is that I recognised my mother's voice. I thought that that was all I really needed to know. By then, I'd grown to care as much for my mother as I ever had for anyone, and added to that I was trained to respond instantly to people in distress, so I rushed to the source of the scream blindly. I stormed through a door, and I didn't realise until I was inside that it was the one leading to my old room. In the brief glimpse I got of the room, I saw that the few things I hadn't taken with me when I'd left were still there, though not necessarily intact. A large frame I'd hung on the wall with a picture of a tropical beach in it was cracked in more than one place. 

My bed was still there, too, and my mother was sitting on it. I suddenly got a sick feeling in my stomach when I realised that something was wrong--something different than I was expecting. I guess the significance of the fact that my mother didn't seem distinctly upset got through my thick skull. 

The next thing I knew, I was hitting the ground, a burning imprint of a fist marring the left side of my face. For a moment, my instincts took over while my mind caught up with what was going on, and that almost saved me. I rolled to my back and my muscles tensed, ready to flip me back to my feet. Then I suddenly recognised the figure who stood towering over me. "No ..." I heard myself whisper. I could have been on my feet that same instance, and either fight or run, but instead, I froze. 

My father grabbed me by the collar and pulled me to my feet as easily as if I was still a ten-year-old. He slapped me across the face again, this time with an open hand. If he hadn't held me up, my legs would have folded on me again. 

"You speak ..." he told me, 

... and he hit me again ... 

"... when spoken to!" 

... and again. 

Then he threw me aside. My legs hit the bed, and I fell down on it. "_When_ are you going to remember that?" my father wondered. Every second after I'd recognised him, my terror and panic rose. I wasn't the Slayer anymore. I wasn't the Faith who faced things that would make world leaders and WWF wrestlers wet their pants and killed them of with a wisecrack. I was just the Faith who was good for nothing, and whose father had ... could do anything to her, and she was powerless to resist. 

I tried to jump up, but before I even found my footing, a fist hit my stomack hard enough to knock me straight back to the bed. Then my father was sitting on top of me, pinning me down. Panicking, I tried to knock him aside, but he caught my hands and pinned them to the bed above my head. "Girl," the bastard said, a sadistic grin on his face, "it's been a while. We have quite some catching up to do." He'd always taken great pleasure out of watching--and feeling--me squirm, but I could never help it, and now was no exception. For an instant, my mind focussed, and I gathered my Slayer strength. I kicked my legs violently, sure that my father would fly halfway across the room before having an unpleasant encounter with the floor. 

He barely even budged, and I got another blow to my face for my trouble. I tasted blood. 

Maybe, just maybe I'd have been able to figure some things out then, but I barely had a second before I got the next shock. Past my father's lustful smile, over his shoulder, I saw my mother, and she was smiling too. "Mom!" I begged. "Please! Help me!" She had never lifted a finger to stop anything my father did before, but she had changed, hadn't she? Hadn't she? She just smiled. 

Then, things got worse. 

It seemed to happen in slow-motion. Maybe it did go slowly, or perhaps it was just my imagination. It doesn't matter. It doesn't change anything. As my parents smiled, their already crooked rows of teeth distorted, and grew into flesh-tearing fangs. Their foreheads furrowed, and rough ridges formed. And their eyes ... you can tell a lot about someone by looking into their eyes, and there was nothing human to see in theirs. 

If I hadn't cracked before, I did then. They laughed. I screamed. 

My father let me scream ans thrash about in blind panic for a while, I can't sure how long. Then he beat me until I finally shut up. He still held me down firmly, and my mother took over the hold on my arms, so my father had his hands free for other things. He grabbed the collar of my shirt and tore away the fabric. Again I tried to break free. If I had had my wits about me, I know I could have broken loose. A Slayer isn't much use if two vampires as young as they must have been could hold her down so easily. But in my fear, I barely remembered which side was up, let alone how to fight. Tears ran down my cheeks. My father began to grope at my naked skin, hard, bruising touches. He knew what to do that it were the memories as much as the pain now that hurt. 

Suddenly his hand reached into my pants and squeezed painfully. "I've missed this so much, my lovely," he said grinning broadly at me, "I'm afraid I'm going to rush through you ... The first time, at least." 

And then he ... 

And then he ... 

He ... 

Well. You get the fucking picture, OK? I ... I'm not going to spell it out for you. 

***

I didn't wake up. Somehow, that surprised me. I mean, everything that had been in my nightmares, like, ever, was there. My father. Vampires I couldn't handle. What else could it be but a nightmare? Still, I lay there, hours later, numb, very aware that I was awake. My parents didn't bother to hold me down anymore. My father, the vampire who had been my father, just sat on my naked form. I don't believe I could have moved if I'd tried. The one thing that had always kept me moving, no matter how long a fight lasted, was pure adrenalin. Nothing kills adrenalin like giving up. In a corner of my mind--the only bit that was still working--I struggled to find something, _anything_, to work with, to focus on, so I could pull myself together. If I managed that, just for a fraction of a second, I knew I could hold on to it. But there was nothing. 

I heard the door creak as it swung open, but I didn't have the energy to look up. Someone started clapping calmly. "Bravo, bravo," came a voice that sounded oddly familiar. "Quite the show." Apparently the speaker came closer, and he was something important, because my parents jumped to get out of his way. A hand grabbed me by the neck, and I was lifted of the bed. More by instinct than by any conscious act of resistance, my arms rose to clasp the arm holding me in the air. My eyes widened when I finally saw and recognised the owner of the voice. The dark skin. The little smile of amused arrogance. It was Mr Trick. "The master enjoyed your screams, Slayer," the vampire continued, "but he didn't want to be stuck in this dump all day--and who can blame him?--" Trick interrupted himself, looking around the room distastefully, "so he left shortly before sunrise." He chuckled. "You're a fool, Slayer. I told you that the master and I were going to take out everyone you cared about, few as there are. That Watcher was little more than a distraction. Now all that's left is your own Watcher, and with you safely out of the way and in our custody, we'll have her by tonight." Pause. "The master promised me a taste of your blood when he's done with you, Slayer. I can barely wait." 

It was a mistake of Trick to think that just because I hadn't put up enough of a fight to resist a mouse for hours, he could handle me with one hand. That single corner of my mind was still fighting, and it had just found a ledge. I remembered Trick. Fighting him. I remembered the cold certainty that if our fight in the mall hadn't been interrupted, I would have creamed him. This wasn't a father who a little girl couldn't hurt. This was a vamp who was _damn_ lucky to have got away from the Chosen One once. 

My hands were still on Trick's arms, and I squeezed hard, until I heard a satisfying crack. Trick yelped in unexpected pain, and I dropped to the ground. Allowing my fighter's instincts to take over completely, I rolled away from him and back to my feet. I recognised the fact that I was in no condition to fight, and leapt for the window. The sole window in my room hadn't been opened since I was perhaps eight years old, and more recently, it had been painted over to keep the sun out. I crashed into it with my shoulder. And bounced right back. I fell down on the floor again. 

The vampires behind me laughed. "Cute," Trick commented, though he was still hunched over, holding his broken arms close to his body. "Mr Mandorf, if you would be so kind as to restrain your daughter?" 

My father approached me, and I knew exactly what would happen if he got his hands on me again. I screamed, and poured out all of my emotions into my fist. I punched clean through the window. Once cracked, the glass broke away easily, and I was blinded as sunlight shone in. 

Behind me, my father screamed, and I heard his body combust in flames, until he imploded in a cloud of dust. Trick cursed and my mother gasped. I dove through the window. 

The broken glass cut into my naked body, but I was bruised so badly, physically as well as mentally, that I barely noticed. I landed with a grunt in the tall grass outside, among the remains of the window. The grass was still wet with dew, and I shivered. When I had jumped out, I had somehow taken one of the curtains with me. I made a half-hearted attempt to wrap it around me and ran off. 

I can only imagine what a sight I must have made, running through the streets of Boston. A girl, naked except for a worn curtain wrapped around her--and I couldn't tell you if the cloth even covered anything-- bruised and cut almost beyond recognition, just walking, running whenever I had a burst of energy or my fear overcame me. Being as charitable a lot as people in general are, no one did more than stare at me or get out of my way. I was beyond caring, beyond noticing, even. I just knew the general direction the apartment was in, and that I was going in that direction. There was safety there. A little, at least. Looking back, I doubt if I would ever have actually found Maria's apartment. 

Frightened as I was, exhaustion was quickly overcoming me, and I still barely noticed as a car screeched to a halt next to me on the street. 

"Faith!" I heard, and I tried to turn around. If a pair of arms hadn't caught me under my arms, I would have fallen. "My god, Faith," she whispered, shocked. It was Maria standing in front of me, but all I could make out was a blurr that was vaguely Maria-shaped. 

"Muh-Maria?" I managed hoarsely when I finally recognised her. And then I threw myself into her embrace and started to sob.   
  


* * *

  


Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


	7. Chapter Twelve: Blood Reckoning

**FAITH THE VAMPIRE SLAYER:   
SLAYER, SLEW, SLAIN**

By Niels van Eekelen   
TelltaleProd@Hotmail.com   
www.TelltaleProductions.tk   
  


* * *

  


**CHAPTER TWELVE: BLOOD RECKONING**

  
  


I try not to cry very often, and with just a few exceptions, I think I get along very nicely. That day was a prime example of why I won't let myself get down with the tears. Once I started crying in earnest, I didn't stop. Afterwards, I was never really sure how much of the story Maria got out of me. I might have blurted out the entire story in between sobs, but somewhere I doubt it. I suspect that I only gave my Watcher the most bare and necessary facts. 

Either way, Maria never asked me about it later, in the short time we had left together. How much she guessed, I never had the chance to find out, but she could tell that I couldn't have taken the questions, and didn't press the matter. 

For the next two or three days, Maria never left my side. We never ate food that wasn't delivered, and Maria never opened the door without a crossbow in hand. Yeah, there were some pretty freaked-out pizza guys in Boston those few days. 

Slowly, I was healing. Or at least my body was. The... encounter with my father had ripped all the walls I'd placed in my mind wide open to face the sunlight, and I faired little better in that light than most vamps did. That time is rather vague in my memory. I slept a lot, but never for long. And when the nightmares started me awake screaming, Maria was there to hold me. Every single time. She made me feel protected like I hadn't been since I was a toddler. I had never had anyone like Maria in my life before. 

Which didn't mean that I could stand letting even her see me so vulnerable. On the Third or fourth day after the incident, I woke up, soaked in my own sweat. I was panting like I'd just run a double marathon, and perhaps that is why I did not scream and wake Maria. M was sitting on a pillow on the ground, her head perched on the edge of my bed, sound asleep. She looked absolutely exhausted; I can't imagine that she'd got much sleep over the past few days. She'd certainly earned her title, Watching over me. 

Careful not to wake Maria, I got out from under the sweat-soaked covers and stood up. I planned to shower, get dressed and bring Maria a meal, for a change. Simply put, I wanted to show the both of us that I was a tough bitch and could take care of myself. It wasn't as easy as I'd thought. 

I stood there next to the bed, and my legs were shaking like something crazy. I'd not managed to eat much over the past few days, and my bruised and battered body was still only half-healed. Trying to put on a brave face but failing, I stumbled my way to the bathroom, supporting myself on whatever I could get my hands on. 

Turning on the hot shower, I suddenly felt inhumanly filthy. Maria had washed me after she had brought me home, bathed me like an invalid, or a baby. But suddenly I could smell my father on me again.Quickly, I tore off my shirt and underwear and stepped under the hot, cleansing spray. I saw on Maria's alarm clock that it was 4.30 AM. The hot water running over my body felt wonderful, but it did little to help me feel any cleaner. I lathered and rinsed. Then I did it again, scrubbing harder each time until my skin was red like a sunburn. It was probably the cleanest I've ever been in my life, and still my body felt dirty. 

I didn't even realise that my tears were mingling with the water from the shower until I snapped out of my daze when Maria shouted my name. 

Automatically, I responded to the controlled panic in her voice. "Here! In the shower!" I heard Maria rush into the bathroom and I shared her panic for a moment when she swung open the curtain. Maria relaxed the moment she saw that I was all right. Then she struggled with her Britishness for a moment about whether to close her eyes until I got dressed or help me. Fortunately, the Britishness lost. My Watcher turned off the water and quickly through a towel around me. As Maria helped to dry and clothe me, I focused on calming my breathing. The alarm clock said it was almost 6.45 AM. 

Neither of us spoke a word while we ate brekfast, but it was clear that something had changed now. I had recovered enough to get busy, and keeping myself so busy that I couldn't think was the only way that I was going to put this behind me. 

When we were sure bright sunlight lit every corner outside, we left the apartment to go train. Trick hadn't followed through on his threat to kill Maria yet, but that was probably only because we had both been dug in safely in the apartment. Our doormat did _not_ read 'Welcome'. 

There was a bankrupt gym not far away which we used for training. Still not speaking more than stricly necessary, we started out with some simple exercises. You know, just punching and kicking some padding Maria wore. At first, my coordination was so off you could have put a small country between it and me. Maria scolded me mercilessly for every miss, and I was glad for it. 

Well, more accurately, _now_ I'm happy for it. Back then, I grew more furious with every word. That is what brought me back from the edge, as far as I ever get from it. I'm not one to wax philosophical, but if you ask me, that's part of the primal power that makes a Slayer a Slayer. Fighting, or being near demons just pisses us off on a fundamental level, and we take strength from that or any other kind of anger to kick some serious ass. 

We took no brakes longer than it took for us to catch our breaths, and then went on, slugging away. Any other day, and Maria would have been doing the opposite--trying to get me to use my head more instead of my gut. She claims that that is a lesson straight from the Slayer Handbook--I wouldn't know, I never cracked open the book myself--which doubles as a lesson for Watchers that you can't accomplish everything with your Slayer. 

Around lunchtime, I was so angry that I'd forgotten not just the past few days, but most of my childhood with it. I knocked Maria on her ass for the fifth time in as many minutes, and reflexively, I put out my hand to help her up. I didn't even look down at her until I realised that she wasn't going to take the hand. 

"What?" I demanded from her very annoying smile. Maria just sat there on the ground, looking at me. 

"Fuck, M. What?" I demanded again, now almost laughing myself. 

Finally, Maria took the hand I was still holding out and pulled herself to her feet. "Welcome back, Faith dear." 

I grinned back at her. "Yeah, I guess I am. Wanna go dust some vamp butt?" 

Immediately, Maria's face turned stern again, but this time she meant it. "We don't have any choice when it comes to that, Faith. But don't get cocky. You've pulled yourself together--and for that, I'm proud of you, very--but as much as I know you'll hate to think so, you're very fragile right now." 

I shrugged of the uncomfortable feeling my Watcher's words gave me. My father--the vamp who'd taken his body (small difference)--was gone, dusted in the sunlight as I'd escaped through the window. I didn't believe anything could possibly shatter me the way he could. "'s cool, M," I assured Maria. "I'm five by five." The worried look in her eyes stayed with me, though. To cover, I grabbed our stuff and put it back in the bag. "Lunch?" 

"Mexican," Maria said in her Watcher-resolve voice. I didn't object. After practice sessions, I was usually famished enough that I'd eat anything, and Maria could have her pick. 

While we were eating, my mind was churning. Not on any dangerous topics, mind you. I stuck with thoughts of kicking ass and taking names. The trouble was going to be in finding this particular ass. 

When, during my second burrito, I glanced at Maria, she gave me the raised eyebrow. "We need a plan," I admitted grudingly. "Trick seems to know every move we make, and we still know squat." 

Maria nodded. "True. About the plan. I was hoping you would realise that catching Trick--not to mention his master--is going to take more than storming in blindly. Good. But we're not completely in the dark." 

"We're not?" I asked, surprised.Try as I might, I had not been able to come up with a single useful clue Trick had left us. 

"I, em." Maria smiled at me gently. "I've had some time to think over the past few days, and while I couldn't leave the house, I did make some phonecalls." 

In a hurry to not to dwell on those past few days, I looked at her askance. 

As always, Maria understood. "Two men were sent here by the Council to take care of Mr Duke's ..." 

"... remains," I supplied. 

"... funeral," my Watcher corrected me tersely. "Anyway, I went to college with one of them. Saunders. Good man." I could have sworn she was blushing. At least she didn't meet my eyes while she spoke. "I asked him to do some investigating on our behalf. Luckily, Henman agreed to assist." Noticing the look of panick in my eyes, Maria quickly clarified. "It was an old favour to me, no questions aked. And I implied that we had an emergency to attend to." 

I leered at her. "Old favour, riiight." 

This time I was certain. Maria blushed. "Faith!" she admonished me. "As glad as I am to see that you have recovered your sense of humour, this is no time for jokes." 

"Sorry," I lied. "They find anything? Where'd you have them look, anyway?" 

Maria frowned as she explained her reasoning. "Well, firstly, I found out why some of the victims had their tongues removed. It is an ancient vampire ceremony. Once, it was done to honour Shallek, an elder god of the Rondhe pantheon--he was apparently once insulted by a mortal man, and granted his strength to those who punished mortals in this manner. But the Rondhe gods have lost nearly all power on this plain, I'm sure the taking of tongues is merely ceremonial now." Great research work by Maria, no doubt. But this wasn't getting us anywhere fast. And honestly? I could have done without the whole image of torn-out tongues. "Anyway, my point," Maria concluded, thank god, "only truly ancient vampires would know of this ceremony. As far as the Council is aware, there are less than a dozen vampires in the world that are old enough to have actually worshipped the Rondhe gods. None of them have any ties with Boston, or this entire state, that we know of. So I reckon that Mr Trick's master has only come to town recently." 

"I get where you're going. Powerful vamp like this moves in, there's gotta be one heck of a lot dust blown up in the local hellcommunity." 

"Precisely," Maria agreed approvingly. "Secondly, Trick and his master seem to know our every step, down to where Mr Duke was staying, while Mr Duke never actually said to me that he was staying in the mansion. That is another reason why I wanted my request to Mr Saunders to stay off the record." 

I frowned. "You believe this vamp has an ear in the Council?" I was shocked. 

Looking very uncomfortable, Maria shook her head. "I refuse to believe that unless I see absolute proof. But at this stage, we cannot afford to disregard _any_ possibility. Anyway, Mr Saunders is most discrete. No one will find out he's working for us, or for the Council." 

"Unless they're tapping our phones," I shrugged. I swallowed my last bite of burrito, and when I turned back to Maria, I saw the worry written all over her face. "What?" I asked. "I was only kidding. They're still vamps, right?" 

Maria got up. "Let's go home." I kind of thought that Maria was overreacting to the idea. The only vamp I'd ever staked who even lived in the twentieth century had been Mordred, and his brain hadn't supported more than plain and simple violence. Still, I guessed that as Maria had said, we couldn't afford to ignore any possibility. 

We all but ran home, and Maria picked up the phone and dialled the number of Saunders and Henman's hotel. They weren't in, so Maria left a message. "Please tell them that Ms Bandera called. Mr Saunders and Mr Henman are _not_ to call me back, under any circumstances. Tell them _I_ will call _them_ from a phone booth in the morning... Yes, all of that... Thank you." She hung up and turned to me. 

"I don't think we discussed anything over the phone yet that would be valuable to our enemies," she said. "Saunders said they were close to something, but he did not tell me what." 

"Well, M, maybe someone rented a big castle with no windows," I quipped. I really felt much better, now that I was up and fighting again. 

Maria smiled at me. "You'd be surprised, Faith dear. Sometimes it really _is_ as easy as that, once you know to look in the right places." 

The rest of the day was pretty much torture. Maria wasn't going to call the Council operatives until morning, because she figured they would be out until nightfall, and neither of us wanted Maria to go out at night. We remembered Trick's threats all too well. So we were stuck doing booky research. Normally, I don't do research. There's usually _some_ way to get out of it, for instance, running like the wind. No such luck this time. 

We found that only four of the ancient vampires had any links to America. Of those, one was currently under observation by Council operatives in the castle he had imported from Europe, leaving a Mr Hart, a chick by the name of Serpentia... and Kakistos. Then there was the Master Heinrich Joseph Nest, whom you know--him being trapped for decades under the library and all--but since his bones had been ground into powder with a sledgehammer, the chances of him coming back were slim. 

They were all as nasty as you can imagine, as far as the books can do such creatures justice, but non of them seemed particularly well-adjusted to modern times, so we figured that part was Trick's work. Everywhere we looked, all we could find on the vampire's were stories of their cruelty. I put on a brave face, but I have to admit that reading those stories shook me. Some of it was close enough to what had been done to me... It sucked. Let's leave it at that. Maria was lost in her bookishness, and for once didn't see through me. 

I guess we figured out that Kakistos must be our man then, though there was no way to be absolutely certain. His modus operandi fit, and those cloven hands of his could have easily have been what mutilated the corpses in the mall and in the mansion. The day seemed to last forever, but finally, the sun went down. Slayers aren't built to sleep at night, at least not full nights, but I wasn't at full strength yet, and I was looking forward to a good sleep before going on the warpath the next day. The nightmares I had been having worried me, but the idea of vengeance was giving me a tingly kind of feeling, so I figured I'd be all right. 

It was just minutes after sunset that there was a frantic knocking at the door. We exchanged a curious look, but then Maria went to see who it was. It was still very early for vamps to be out already, but M grabbed a crossbow anyway. I had been shrpening the point on a wooden staff, and stood ready to back Maria up if necessary. 

After opening the door a few inches, I saw M start. "Billy!" she exclaimed--I didn't know it before, but that was Saunder's first name, obviously. Quickly, my Watcher unlocked the chain and opened the door wide enough for the guy to enter. Nervously she looked around the hallway, but apparently, it was empty. "I thought I told you you couldn't come here! Well? Hurry, come in." 

I failed Maria three times. This was the first. And those three times? I'll never forget them. I'll never forgive myself for them. Even when I was at my most craziest, right before the Ascension was supposed to go down, these times I failed the only one who ever cared about me so completely and selflessly, they still haunted me. To this day, and to the day that I die. 

The invitation had no sooner left Maria's lips than that Saunders's face changed. "Why thank you," the vamp said, grinning past his fangs, "don't mind if I do!" 

Maria gasped, retreating backwards. I leapt forward, the staff thrust out before me. We were too slow. In the fraction of a second that surprise cost us, the vampire grabbed Maria's arm and flung her out into the hallway, into the hands of a veritable army of vampires that had appeared out of thin air. Trick was among them. As was my mother. It all seemed to happen in slow-motion, but time snapped back into its regular rhythm when my customised staff punched through Saunder's chest. 

Saunders screamed. I'd missed the heart, but the vamp was out of the fight anyway. Before my brain kicked in, I was already moving on adrenaline. Knowing that the staff was no weapon for close combat against so many opponents, I used it to swing Saunders away from the door, and drove its point into the wall deep enough to keep Saunders upright. Then I snapped off the end, instant stake. 

Which is when my brain kicked in. My eyes were going over the vamps outside, assessing the threat, and suddenly I recognised him. Kakistos. I looked down to see that his hands were really cloven, but I was certain before that. Because I recognised him. Like Trick had said, Kakistos had been there that day with my father. Why I didn't remember him before, I don't know. Maybe I repressed it. Maybe I was just to _fucking_ preoccupied to give a shit. But all of a sudden, I was remembering. Kakistos's cold, sadistic laughter as he watched my pain. The hard feel of one of those cloven hands as he lifted my near unconscious body off the floor. 

I realised that I had frozen, standing there with my stake at the ready. Kakistos was goading me to come out, but I didn't even understand his words. I had to strain to catch the meaning of the words Maria was shouting at me. "Faith! Faith! First rule of slaying! Remember--" Kakistos backhanded her, and she slumped, unconcious. But I knew what she was going to tell me, anyway. The first rule of slaying: stay alive. And she was right. With so many vamps outside, our only chance was for me to stay where they couldn't get in. 

I knew it. She knew it. Hell, the vamps knew it. 

But none of that was the reason that I stayed in the appartment, that I stumbled backwards, fell on my ass, and couldn't even try getting up until long after Kakistos and the other vampires were gone, taking Maria with them. 

That was the first time that I failed Maria. 

Some time later--I honestly wouldn't know how much--I suddenly turned over and vomitted. While I was still retching, I heard a painful moan, and I realised that the vampire I'd staked to the wall was still there. Tears in my eyes from anger, at myself more than anything else, I broke Saunder's face on my knuckles. 

"Tell me where they went," I demanded, death rays shooting from my eyes. "Tell me where they took her!" The vampire looked back into my eyes. Perhaps he was bred with that utter loyalty that vamps sometimes seem to have to their sires, or perhaps he was simply too afraid of Kakistos, but he fought of the pain and refused to talk. I fixed that. The rage I was in, it didn't take me long. Afterwards, I dusted Saunders, snatched up some weapons, and I ran out of the door. 

I was still terrified, but had it hidden under the mask I usually have up. Nothing mattered now. Saving Maria was it--even the painful death I had put aside just for that bastard came second right now. 

Kakistos and Trick were operating from an building in an industrial park Trick had rented over the Internet. It wasn't far--actually, I'd passed through the industrial park on patrol once or twice. It was maybe half an hour from the apartment, on foot. That night, I did it in ten minutes, tops. 

The place was a large shed, one in a row of many. Even if I'd taken a closer look at it one night on patrol, nothing gave away that this was a vamp hideout, not on the outside at least. There were loading facilities for trucks out front. Big crane, containers stacked twenty feet high. That sort of stuff. It looked like it was still in use. 

Reining myself in, I circled the place twice before I picked the best entry point. Then I climbed onto the third-storey roof of the shed to the right of the one I wanted. From there, I leapt across the gap against the opposite wall. Clawing for any purchase I could get, I pulled myself up. It was a cheap construction, and the gap left between the wall and ceiling was just wide enough to squeeze though. The jump was easy. It was landing without making enough ruckus to literally wake the dead that was the tough part. 

The top storey of the shed was dark. I dropped to the floor and waited a moment. No vamps jumped out at me, and that was all the checking I wanted to take the time to do. There was a big freight elevator in the centre of the building; the elevator itself was all the way at the bottom, but that was fine. I couldn't use it anyway--too much noise. I grabbed the ledge, and swung myself over. I landed in a roll one storey lower, stakes in both hands as I bounded to my feet. 

By now I was getting worried, because there was no sign of vampires on this floor either. With everything that had happened so far, there was no way I was going to believe that I was catching Kakistos and Trick completely by surprise. Some sounds were drifting up from the ground floor, but not clearly enough to tell if they were from vampires. 

Lying down on my stomach, I lowered my head into the elevator shaft and glanced around the ground floor. The room was cloaked in darkness like the two floors above. I could see nothing that indicated the place was inhabited. I frowned, worried, because I _knew_ I'd heard sounds coming from here--and if Saunders had been wrong about this place, I'd lost my only chance of ever finding Maria. Slowly, I lowered myself through the hole. The storeys in those sheds are pretty tall, so I was still several feet from the ground when I hung from my fingertips. In the dark, it was impossible to tell exactly. 

I let go, ready for anything. I could have had weapons in my hands the instant I hit the ground. If there had been vamps down there, and they'd jumped me, I would have been ready for them. A scream rang out through the air. An ear-splitting, tortured scream. In Maria's voice. I tried to twist around in mid-air, towards the sound, but I only managed to get my own feet out from under me. I banged into the floor face-first. 

For a moment I thought that the flash of light I saw was just from the force of impact, but when I raised to my hands and knees, the lights were still on. 

That was the least of it. 

There were vampires all around, maybe thirty of them. Above me, I glimpsed more vamps on the edge of the elevator shaft, cutting off any hope I would have had of escape. 

But there was only one vampire I was paying attention to. Kakistos stood mere feet away, lurking over a bloody heep of a human being. It screamed again, and I swear that the sound of her voice was the only thing that was recognizable about Maria. The things Kakistos could do with those claws of his... There are no words to describe them, and I honestly don't want to try. Kakistos looked at me, his face and body covered in M's blood. He looked as if it had been centuries since he'd had so much fun. 

"Nooo!" I shrieked. I had a battle axe sheathed on my back, and I swung it out as I mindlessly stormed at the monster. The axe was the real thing, heavy enough that it required a two-handed grip. It ripped through the air with all the adrenaline-driven force I could put behind it. Kakistos punched out with the flat of his hand and snapped the handle in half, sending the double blade scything through the room. Unable to halt my momentum, I lurched forward, and Kakistos's cloven hand to my gut sent me flying into a stack of crates. The wooden boxes shattered at the impact, and I landed among the shrapnel, splinters everywhere distracting me from the dull pain in my gut. 

Two of Kakistos's minion rushed in to drag me to my feet. Striking out blindly with the shards of wood I had snatched up, I managed to stake them both. None of the others approached me. 

I looked up, and Kakistos smiled at me. Guess what? It wasn't a friendly smile. It was the kind of fang-showing that will send shivers down your spine. "Welcome, Slayer," he said. "You were a good prey--the best I've had in centuries. But now it's time to end the hunt." He touched Maria's mangled form--it looked like no more than a simple touch--and once again she screamed in agony. That sound caused a reaction of almost physical pain in me. 

"You son of a--" I stormed at him again. Like with every other encounter I'd had with Kakistos or any of his gang, the sick fuck knew exactly what my buttons were, and how to push them. If I'd thought about it, I'd have realised then and there that Kakistos had purposefully lured me there just so that he could have an all-out one on one battle before killing me. All the other vamps there were just an audience, to prevent me from fleeing. Maria, everything... it was all part of numbing down his 'prey' for that final moment of victory. 

This time, when Kakistos struck out at me, he knocked me down on the floor. Ignoring the impact as best as I could, I swung my legs and scissored his legs out from under him. Ancient and powerful as he was, Kakistos fell down just as good as any vamp. I rolled over, straddling him, and raised a stake I'd kept in my sleeve. Kakistos brutally stabbed me with one of his cloven hands, piercing the flesh of my thigh. I screamed my lungs out from the pain. 

Kakistos batted me aside. I managed to roll with the punch, and end up squatted on my heels. When I rose to my feet, though, my injured leg buckled beneath me. 

The monster _touched_ Maria again, and again she screamed. Taking out my last stake, I limped at Kakistos as best as I could. Tears were running freely down my cheeks. I knew deep in my heart that all of Maria's pain was because of me. Kakistos was only torturing her to rile me. Even worse, I knew that if I hadn't been weak, if I hadn't let Kakistos break me, it would never have come this far. 

And I cried because I was deadly afraid that I would be next. I attacked, not because I really believed I had a chance anymore, but simply for it to be over one way or another. Kakistos hit me in the arm, knocking the stake out of my hand, but I rolled along the punch and leapt, half-rolling, half-jumping over the vampire's shoulder. Back on the ground, I kicked in the back of his knee, but he did not go down. For a while, I was all over Kakistos, kicking and punching every part of his body that I could find, dodging whatever he threw back at me. The fight seemed to be turning my way after all. 

But Kakistos wasn't even slowing down, and my leg was killing me. Literally, 'cause I was bleeding pretty bad. In the end, all it took for Kakistos to take back control was one solid hit. 

I don't even remember the hit itself, only lying on the ground gasping for breath, sure, for one instant, that my hand was all that was holding my guts in. 

Did you know that being shot in the stomach is supposed to be one of the worst ways to go? I know this from experience. Trust me, bullet or claw makes no difference. 

It turned out that, though I was certainly losing twice as much blood now, the wound in my stomach wasn't as bad as I feared. I needed to use my hand to get up, and no guts fell out onto the floor. I needn't have bothered trying to get up. Kakistos was towering over me. He put a heavy foot on my shoulder as was trying to raise from my knees to my feet and crushed me back into the ground. With a sickening sound, something cracked. I tried once more to get up, but couldn't. 

Kakistos knelt down on the floor beside me, and let me feel his cloven hands. I think the bastard might have had poison on his claws. Either that, or in all his centuries of unlife he had learnt something about inflicting pain that I've never found _anywhere_ else. Those are the only possible explanations I have for what he could make you feel with a single touch. I did little more than writhe in agony on the floor in response. 

"Faith..." 

The softly-spoken word came to me while gasping in between screams. My head shot up in shock. Maria. She had regained consciousness, and was watching me with the one eye she could still force halfway open. Her lips were moving. In hindsight, I think that Maria was just gasping for breath, like I was. But then, I was sure that my Watcher was trying to tell me something. I focused through the pain. 

There was no voice to hear, or if there was, the laughter coming from Kakistos's minions drowned it out. But I heard Kakistos swing his claw at me, inches from my body. Drawing on reserves of powers I didn't know I had, I huddled up, rolling away and escaping the blow by a hair's breadth. 

When I opened my eyes, I was looking right at the razor edge of a steel blade, half an inch from my face. It took a moment before I realised that it was the blade of my own axe, that had been sent spinning through the room when Kakistos had broken the handle. The axe was a heavy weapon--it'd had a two-handed handle on it for a reason--and wasn't a throwing axe. It suddenly came to me that with Kakistos's strength behind it, it had still proven quite aerodynamic. I was certain I was as strong as he was. 

I tore the blade out of the floor. It sliced through the air with a high-pitched whistle, and landed with the sickening crunch of breaking bone. Kakistos had been one his way to pounce on me some more, but the blade of the axe gouged out a deep hole in his face and sent him toppling over backwards. 

The bastard's scream of pain was as inhuman as _he_ was. It was the most satisfying thing I'd ever heard in my entire life. 

Grinding my teeth, I got back to my feet. Kakistos's wound would have killed a human, and though I knew that a vampire would eventually recover--and given enough time even regrow the eye--but even a vampire would be out of it long enough for a solid staking. To my surprise, the guarding minions still left me alone. I guess they'd been instructed not to interfere no matter what. Trick, as far as I could tell, was out taking a hike. Small surprise there. Taking a sliver of wood from the floor, I stood over Kakistos's body, savouring the moment. Then I jammed the stake into his chest. 

But with Kakistos's bulk, the sliver of wood just wasn't enough to reach his heart. At least, I imagine that was it. Kakistos didn't dust. All I did was wake him up. Kakistos's remaining eye snapped open, and he let loose an ear-splitting, animal howl. One hand reached up with lightning speed, catching my right arm. He crushed my arm so hard that the bones snapped, breaking through the skin. My voice was already hoarse, but I quickly found out that I had a few screams left in me. 

Kakistos got up, lifting me easily as if I was a baby. I tried to twist free, but that hurt my arm so much worse that I can still feel it. With his free hand, he pulled the axe out of his face, then turned to look at me. The bloody pit where his one eye used to be looked less scary than the naked, feral rage in the other. The pain had made Kakistos go wild. There was no trace of his cold, sadistic nature left, but somehow this was even scarier. 

Before I had the chance to realise what was going on, I was flying through the air. This time, though, Kakistos had flung me away with all his strength. For a fleeting second, I was just relieved that he had let go of my arm. Then I crashed through the door and hit the asphalt outside. 

It seemed to me that so much time had passed that it should have been at least noon the following day. The blazing sun would have solved all my problems, then and there. No such luck. The sky was still pitch black, and would remain so for almost another hour. 

Dazed, I got up to my knees. To my surprise, I was at least a dozen yards from the door to the shed. I had almost hit the driver's cabin of the nearest crane. Meanwhile, while I was getting my bearings, Kakistos wasn't wasting any time. The creature came stalking towards me from the building like a bloody, rabid bear. He seemed more enormous than ever. 

It was pure luck that I saw my opportunity. I had one chance of surviving the night, and I grasped it with both hands. Metaphorically speaking, of course. Realistically, my right hand wasn't doing jack. Limping, shaking my head to focus my eyes and cradling my arm to my bodies, I made for the driver's cabin. I breathed a sigh of relief when the door opened under my hand. By some act of providence, the cabin wasn't locked. Once inside, I fell to the ground and began to shake. I couldn't stop. 

Kakistos kept coming like a force of nature, growling like the beast that he was. His minions followed him out of the shed--at a safe distance. I watched him coming, praying to whoever was listening that my plan would work. 

It did. Kakistos was nearing the cabin, and showed his fangs and raised his claws to give me one last fright before killing me. Imagine the bastard's surprise when he leaped forward and collided with an invisible barrier, bouncing him right back. He was infuriated. He rammed into the barrier time and time again, but it made no difference. If it wouldn't have been so painful, I would have laughed. 

Instead, I looked around the cabin once more. It was obvious that this crane was operated by just one driver in particular. There were pictures taped to the wall: some of a nice, Afro-American family, some of the person I assumed to be the driver, surrounded by a group of his colleagues. There was a portable radio, even a little succulent. It was almost... like a home. 

Eventually, Kakistos exhausted his rage, and the shadow of ration returned to his one-eyed glare. He finally realised that there was no way he was gonna get into the cabin, and before long, the sun was going to put an end to that seemingly everlasting night. Without taking his eye off me, Kakistos summoned two of his minions. "Fetch the Watcher," he growled. 

"No more games, Slayer," he said to me. "For this"--and he dragged his claw through the blood welling up in the wide-ass scar on his face--"you will die. No more games." The minions returned, dragging Maria along. Kakistos took her from them. 

I had no fight left in me, but I swear that if I'd realised what that monster was about to do, I would have jumped right back out of the cabin. With one quick movement, Kakistos tore Maria's head from her body. "_NO!_" I screamed, but I was too late. 

The worst part... the worst part is... just before it happened, Maria and I looked each other in the eye. She was pretty far gone already, and the look she gave me was unreadable. It could have been relief at seeing me still alive, it could have been shared pain, it could even have been nothing, a numb look with neither thought nor emotion behind it. Or it could have been blame. I'll never know, and that is worse than anything the answer could have been. 

I cried. My eyes glued to Maria's corpse, I cried. Dimly, I heard Kakistos's words before he and his minions left to find their shelter for the day. "The next time we meet, Slayer," he threatened, "there will be nowhere for you to hide. And it will be soon." 

That was the second time I failed Maria. And this time, she died because I could not kill Kakistos. To top it all off, I was about to fail my Watcher, the mother I never had, one last, third time. I should have done anything in my power to kill Kakistos then--swallow my pride and beg the Watchers' Council if I had to--to at least have vengeance for everything that monster did to her. I didn't. Instead, I fled. 

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to be continued

  
  


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Story written by Niels van Eekelen. © Copyright 2004 Telltale Productions. 

In a perfect world, I would own the series 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer' and 'Angel'. Alas, it is not, and I bow my head to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy. Ah, well. It's probably for the best, me not having a contract to put the show on the air and all. 

A special thanks to Paul Leone and Teresa Owens, from whose story 'The Deliverer' I nicked the name of Faith's Watcher, though not the character. 


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